“Ivan, what’s up?”


    Ivan Morton rarely called her–most of the time, he just texted. For a


    moment, Alessia wondered if something was wrong.


    “Alessia, I’m here too!” York Tate shouted in the background, absentmindedly petting Rex.


    By now, Alessia was used to finding York at the Morton house; he seemed to spend more time there than at his own family’s ce.


    “Are you noting home this weekend?” Ivan’s voice was soft and gentle, the kind that made you unconsciously lower your own. Unlike York, who always sounded like the world owed him something–so much so that she often wanted to smack him.


    “Is something wrong?” she asked. She’d just visitedst weekend and even brought back some of Karen’s homemade pastries for her


    roommate.


    “I miss you.” Maybe it was the influence of those two rascals, but Ivan had be much better at saying what was on his mind.


    “I can’t make it this weekend, but how about I take you to that art exhibit


    next week?”


    “Okay.” Ivan sounded a little disappointed, but the thought of going to the exhibit with Alessia cheered him up.


    “I want to go too!” York piped up.


    “You don’t even like art. Won’t you be bored?”


    “I still want to go!” York moved closer to Ivan, grabbing his wrist–the one with the watch–as if that would make his protest more convincing.


    “Alright, you cane, if–and only if–you make it through the week without a single call from your teacher.” Since York had listed Alessia’s number as his emergency contact, she’d gotten used to picking up a


    <b>1/3 </b>


    10:05


    York pouted but didn’t argue.


    “Anything else?” Alessia asked, noticing Cole approaching, arms full of


    snacks.


    “School’s holding its sports day next Friday. Do you have time toe watch?” There was a tentative hopefulness in Ivan’s voice.


    “Next Friday?” Alessia nced at Cole, holding up her phone in a silent question. He nodded, stepping aside obediently, bncing a bottle of Coke, a tub of popcorn, and her crossbody bag draped over his shoulder. “Yeah! The teacher picked me to stand at the front. Zane’s holding the sign because he’s tall, but York and I will be right behind him.” Ivan, sitting on the couch, swung his legs and his eyes sparkled—he was clearly excited for sports day.


    York lounged beside him, feigning indifference, but his ears practically perked up at the mention.


    “Friday…<i>” </i>Alessia thought about her schedule–she had two sses that day.


    “If you’re busy, that’s okay…” Ivan’s voice trailed off, the hope fading from his eyes. He nced at his watch, lips pursed in a pout so big you could hang a bottle on it.


    Still, he didn’t whine or throw a tantrum.


    Alessia suddenly remembered her own first sports day. The details were blurry now, but the sting of disappointment was something she would never forget.


    “I’ll be there, don’t worry. I promise. I’ll spend the whole day with you.”


    Her words were like a shot of adrenaline; both boys beamed from ear to


    ear.


    “The games start at nine, bute half an hour early. We’ll give you the


    <b>2/3 </b>


    10:05


    grand tour,” Ivan said eagerly.


    “This year we’repeting against other schools. I signed up for the sprints–just wait, you’ll see me leave everyone in the dust!” York bragged, but there was nothing annoying about it for once.


    Alessiaughed. “Alright, if you win, I’ll take you both to the aquarium.”


    She could hear their cheers through the phone.


    Two sses were nothing–supporting her brothers at their very first sports day mattered so much more. She’d missed <i>out </i><i>on </i>that kind of memory growing up, and she was determined not <i>to </i>let them miss it too.


    10:05